The Way It Works
by Hitsu4HinaEva -Hari-Sama
Summary: After getting caught in a misunderstanding, six very different people must form a singing club to learn respect for the arts. Along the way, they find they aren't that different. What is friendship worth?GakuenAU, Musical-type fic,1st chapter un-beta'ed
1. Prologue

**_~The Way It Works~_**

_**Prologue**_

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><p>The six, very different teenagers all were trying to decipher exactly what had happened previously. To a few of them, this place was a foreign land, and for the rest, this is where they spent most of the school day. Some wanted scream multiple profanities at whoever, some were about to cry, some looked like they <em>were<em> crying, some were trying to come up with an excuse for this, and some were guiltily staring at their feet at the floor.

And of course, where it says 'some', read: all of them.

Well, you may ask, what exactly happened?

Well hold on a second. We'll get there when we get there.

At that moment, a prim lady with blonde hair, that was littered with pens, pulled into a bun, and glasses hiding her thin eyes, walked in from the ebony door and cleared her throat. "Ł...Łukasiewicz, Williams, Vargas, Honda and... Kirkland?" Their heads snapped up toward her in unison. "Dr. Vargas will see you now."

_Gulp._

Got it yet?

No?

They all walked into the door as the woman held the door open for them, their eyes trained at the hardwood floor. They all sat in the six chairs arranged in front of the large desk neatly, staring at the nameplate that said in perfectly carved print: _'Principal Vargas'_.

Ah, yes, bet you've got it now.

The man, Romulus Vargas, looked fairly young, despite his age. Especially if you take into account the fact that he'd been in the education business for twenty years. He had been adjusting his dusty brown hair before the sextet had shuffled in, and once they all were seated, he looked at each of the faces before him. He immediately frowned in a very uncharacteristic act.

"Miss Robinson," he began in a questioning tone, his eyes not leaving the teenagers.

"Yes sir?" She responded clearly.

"Are you sure there isn't a misunderstanding?"

"Positive, sir."

"Hm." he paused. "Positive-positive?"

"Yes, sir."

This back-and-forth conversation went on for about five minutes. During this time, the aforementioned group took a moment to recount the day's previous events. The first teenager in the row of chairs, Arthur Kirkland, remembered well. Oh, yes, he remembered almost _too _well. His green eyes showed a dark scowl while his face remained visibly calm (making the Italian next to him yelp a tiny bit in fear) at the memory.

Arthur had been making his rounds early that morning as the student body vice president, scribbling little notes onto his notebook (little things that he'd noticed that needed to be dealt with. I.e., graffiti, obnoxious amounts of gum underneath a desk, students out of dress code, other forms of vandalism, the like). He was able to keep his shoulders back and his chin up as he ignored the comments that included, but were not limited to, "Go back to Russia!", "Why does his voice sound funny?", "He's French... or something."(that one especially got his temper flaring on occasion, as it was an insult to his British pride), "He needs to stop saying I'm a bloody walker or whatever he said. That's probably Mexican for asshole."

So far, the day had been going surprisingly well. Jocks hadn't called him an old maid yet, cheerleaders hadn't mistaken him for a very, very ugly girl yet, and band students hadn't thrown reeds and music sheets at him today.

Why, you might think to yourself, would people do these things? That's just bullying.

While that may be the case, some would argue that he deserved it. He spent most of his time in the student council convincing the other members to make multiple budget cuts. No contest or new music for band. No championship for the sport-players. No uniforms for the chorus. Hell, the art teacher had to buy most of the paint herself around that time. Instead, he... Well, no one really knew where the money went. He blamed the bad economy for it, but only the people who knew him knew that he just didn't like physical activities or art programs. Why? That, they don't know.

Arthur was just about done with the freshmen hall when, out of nowhere, someone (looked like a freshman, since he hadn't seen her before) had grabbed his arm and started dragging him in a random direction. She'd been rambling about the band room and troublemakers and something else he couldn't really understand amidst the sound of their stomping footsteps down the hall and her jagged, uneven breathing (that led him to believe that she'd been running to find someone). The moment he heard the name 'Gilbert', he'd started running as well, nodding to every word the girl was saying that he couldn't make out.

Gilbert Weillschmidt. The arse who'd been the first name on his 'must be dealt with' list when he entered school there.

Bastard.

"And- and- Oh my god, please tell me he's gonna get it." She finally finished as they ran down the band hall, gaining stares from the students in the technology class that also resided in that hall.

Arthur nodded firmly, slowing as they made a left and came face-to-face with the double-doors of the band room. "Absolutely, dear." He had no idea what this was, but it didn't take a genius to put two and two together. Gilbert (plus the shouts and multiple sound of things being broken coming from inside) equaled trouble. And, no, not the kind that came from one of his favorite bands (Coldplay, if you must know). He pushed the doors open and walked past the band director and assistant's office (they had ISS duty or a meeting or something at this time of the morning, since they didn't hold homeroom) and stared at what he found.

Before him were several terrified, yet furious students who watched as two people tore apart band binders, throw instruments and their cases out of their respective cubbies, and things of the like. Arthur saw clarinet keys broken off, trombone slides bent in half, reeds cracked, and whole instruments dented like you wouldn't believe, all littered about the room. He stared at the students watching, only recognizing a few faces, seeing his enemy among them, simply inspecting his hair. Francis Bonnefoy.

Before Arthur could yell and go tear his hear out, his stare jumped over to the two causing this at the sound of a mix of a scream and a sob. There were Gilbert Weillschmidt and Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. Should've known, he scolded himself. He let out a deep breath in the middle of all this chaos and then took one in, and startled everyone with a shout.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS GOING ON HERE?"

Everyone looked at Arthur, slightly disoriented and their ears still ringing, as he stomped over to the two causing it all. "You have about ten seconds to explain what it is you're trying to gain from all this before I-"

"Oh, shut it, Kirkland," the albino, Gilbert, sneered in that annoying thick, German accent, ignoring Arthur, then proceeding to stand on a chair near the blackboard and pulling out a can of spray paint. "Yo, 'Tonio, what should I write?"

"A ver... Maybe write something about Arthur?" Antonio snickered as he tore some more music apart, "Since he really _is _sucking all of the fun out of this all of a sudden, no?"

"Don't you bloody dare!" Arthur said, jumping up and yanking the can from his hands. Before another word could be said, though...

"THE HELL, TOMATO BASTARD!" broke though the silence, and everyone look toward the Italian twins at the entrance, one furious and one devastated in small cries of 'Vee!'

"Lovi!" Antonio's demeanor suddenly changed to a ridiculous smile.

"Don't 'Lovi' me, you damn tomato bastard!" The twin with darker hair and olive green eyes, now introduced as Lovino, stomped over and grabbed the Spaniard's collar.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I'm doing this for you, mi tomate!"

"EH?"

"You said that you wanted 'revenge on that son of a tomato bastard director', no?"

"STUPID BASTARD! THAT'S STUPID!"

As the two went into a heated argument, consisting of both Spanish and Italian, Feliciano, the younger of the twins began to cry, staring longingly at his broken flute on the ground. Arthur began shouting at Francis, who easily retorted and started yet another war between them, giving Gilbert enough time to shrug, retrieve the paint can, and continue painting. A few students had left- to tell a teacher, or something- while more had gathered around, watching the chaos unfold before them.

Amongst the students, eventually, came Alfred F. Jones and his twin brother, Matthew Williams (their parents divorced and Al got his mom's last name while Matt got his dad's, so. More on that later.), who both stared at everything going on before actually doing anything. Alfred was the first to make a move, going to mess with Arthur for no reason before arguing with Francis along side him. Matthew walked over to Gilbert and began scolding him as well, turning it into a one-sided argument as Gilbert often acted like he couldn't hear them.

Then Kiku Honda and Feliks Łukasiewicz showed up, mostly because they heard Feliciano's cries. The smaller Japanese teen had rushed over to console his friend, his brown eyes holding concern. Feliks had seen his broken drumsticks and began screaming and throwing stuff at Gilbert (because one drumstick had '_Awesome wuz hre'_ scribbled on it with sloppily in sharpie) in his native tongue, Polish.

All of this went on for what seemed like hours and then some. Until, that is, they heard a frustrated, familiar voice with anger laced throughout it.

"STUDENTS!"

"Crap, it's the director!" Gilbert glared in the direction of where footsteps were audible from down the hall, tossing the spray paint at Arthur's head (he caught it, though) and running out the door that led outside, only to be chased by Alfred. Antonio shoved the music in his hands into the air, to be caught by Lovino, and followed after the two, followed by Francis, who yelled something about a 'damn rosbif'.

By the time the band director had arrived, the trio had ran away and the only movement in the room was the door slowly closing. Everyone looked at each other and realized that this probably didn't look good. No, not at all. Arthur, holding the paint in his hands, looked up at the board and read the red letters, _'Arthur Kirkland'_, that had been stopped mid-writing. Starting to panic, he looked to the others for reassurance. But he found none.

Feliks clutched his drumsticks as if he was so angry he'd broken them. Matthew was standing in the chair where Gil was, paused in the middle of trying to wipe away the words on the board, but looked like he'd been adding to it. Kiku held a few broken binders on the ground and Feliciano held his broken flute solemnly. Lovino had the torn music in his hands. They all audibly gulped.

They'd been played by the Bad Touch Trio.

The six had just enough time to remember that last line before Dr. Vargas' voice interrupted their thoughts.

"Now, boys... I'm very disappointed in you."

"But, like, it wasn't us, Dr. V!" Feliks cries, rising to his feet and flailing one sleeve of his slightly-over-sized sweater. "It was Gil, Toni, and Frenchie!"

A twitch of hope entered their minds as Feliks actually had the principal's attention.

"Then, like, the stupid director had to be bitch and totally blame it on us! I mean, like, stupid!"

And then it died just like that.

Feliciano simply tugged on the flamboyant teen's skirt (they'd all come accustomed to his cross-dressing) as Arthur motioning for him to sit down. Feliks huffed impatiently, but sat nonetheless.

"Now, what in the world possessed you to do something like that?" Dr. Vargas asked, leaning against his desk on one palm.

"Vee... But, Grandpa, we didn't do anything..." Feliciano shifted in his seat, his gaze at the ground.

Again, another flash of hope was found as they saw a bit of softness flash through the man's eyes. Perhaps the whole, 'I'm-your-grandson-and-I'm-cute-so-believe-me' thing would work for them.

"Yeah, dumb ass, we didn't do nothing! Dammit, everyone in this damn school is so stupid!"

Again, it sank. So far:

_Losses: 3_

_Lives: 3_

"W-well, sir... e-eto... We don't really have an explanation because..." Kiku began. The self-proclaimed sane ones there (read: the ones who had yet to speak) sighed in relief. If anyone, Kiku could get them out of this mess...

... That is, until whatever heartfelt speech he was about to deliver was overflowing with hesitation, honorifics, and polite, random apologies before every other word. With his accent on top of all that, he was almost speaking a foreign language. _Sigh._

_Losses: 4_

_Lives: 2... Well, everyone had forgotten about Matthew, so to them, 1_

"Sir," Arthur began with the clearing of his throat, "I swear upon my duty as student vice president that we were not the perpetrators. Although it may seem only like an excuse, none of us were present when that event had began."

"Mhm," Dr. Vargas nodded vaguely. He let out a sigh. "Several of the witnesses that director talked to said much differently. They said that you were the ones who initiated it."

"I beg your pardon?" Arthur blinked.

"They also said that you've been budget-cutting all over the place for them, too, on top of it all. It'd only make sense that you'd do this, they all said."

"But, sir, if you would just ask the ones who were there first, then-!"

"No," Dr. Vargas held up a hand to stop him. "I'm afraid that I've made up my mind. Even if you yourself are innocent of this crime, Mr. Kirkland, then you re most certainly not innocent of cutting budgets without consulting me, nor my secretary, first."

Arthur remained silent. He felt the other five staring at his back, probably in disappointment. He mentally sighed.

He'd fucked up.

"Now, I've yet to come up with an official punishment for you all, but in the meantime, I'd like for you all to come to school over the Thanksgiving Break weekend so you can repair the band room and find a way to pay for the instruments that were broken."

They all groaned.

Mss Patricia Robinson watched them all slouch- typical teenagers, she thought (even though it wasn't long ago that she was a teenager herself)- with a slight feeling of satisfaction. Finally, a suitable punishment for a student. She'd long gotten tired of Dr. Vargas' easy-going attitude. Suddenly, all those days she'd spent trying to do work in her office having to listen to him pretend like he knew how to play the lute and sing became worth it if it meant he really was this serious about arts-related incidents. She felt like smirking.

"And Miss Robinson will be making sure you do it."

"Wh-wha," she sputtered, sounding uncharacteristically unprepared for the sound to come out of her mouth for the first time that day. "Dr. Vargas, it's the break, and...I may be going somewhere with my boyfriend..." Seems like she was more like those 'teenagers she despised' than first believed.

"Firstly, everyone knows you don't have a boyfriend, so stop saying that. Second, it's just Saturday, Sunday, and Monday. You can handle that, right?"

"...Yes sir."

A glance was exchanged between all of those who were going to spend that weekend figuring out how the hell they were gonna fix something the actually had nothing to do with.

And, so begins our story.

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><p><strong><em>Man, this is short for my recent writings. I know you all are glaring at me because of my not updating TMwY, but hey, I had this piece of awesome in my head and I have to get it out. Like, now. :I<em>**

**_I'm planning on making this a _really _long one, so... _**

**_Oh! That's right, parings. For now, it'll start as USUK, one-sided SpaMano, one-sided LietPol, and, well.. a bunch of one-sidedness. If you want, you can vote on my poll on my profile for the parings you want based off of the chapter I've uploaded each week, but only for that week. If I has inspiration, you'll see it in dere. _**

**_Adieu, mon lovlies~!_**

**_~Hari Sama_**


	2. This Could've Been Avoided

Alfred F. Jones had a naturally vibrant personality that stuck out like a sore thumb. He was generally adventurous, had a tendency to forget his responsibilities at times, and in this way he was regarded as child-like. But he didn't sweat the small stuff and could be considered as easy-going every once and a while. He enjoyed his leisure as much as the next person did. He seemed positive whereas everyone else seemed negative, and due to this, people tend to think of the American teen as a spoiled person.

Well, no. This is not necessarily true. Let us start at the beginning.

When he was little, Alfred had a knack for getting into things he wasn't supposed to. It was as if he only heard what his parents told him _not_to do in the midst of all that adult-talk. Sometimes, this was good. More often than not, it wasn't. Even from a young age, Alfred absorbed attention like a sponge, involuntarily or otherwise.

This meant his twin brother, Matthew, was easily forgotten, even if he was that one child that everyone would die for. He hardly complained, hardly cried, listened, and wasn't accident-prone like his brother. Due to this, their parents never had to worry about Matthew. However, that changed after a while. Seeing his older brother and all of his vibrant, attention-getting limelight of his caught Matthew's interest and made him strive to be like that.

Therefore, they were identical in almost every aspect.

The disagreements between their parents started when they were a bit older. Those disagreements turned into misunderstandings, which had turned into just an awful mess. Fighting occurred almost every waking moment of the day over almost everything. It was so bad, that for a period of time, even Alfred stopped smiling all the time. They would be so caught up in their anger over nothing that they would bring their children into their arguments. As one would expect, they eventually split. Their mom got custody of Alfred while their dad got Matthew.

Their mom, Mary, tended to be a courageous and outgoing woman with her blue eyes wide and ready to take in the world. Her cheerful disposition rubbed off on her eldest son, and he was convinced that his mom was a super hero. She had two different jobs and did all the housework, but still managed to always have a reason to smile and was always there for her son.

Thomas, their father, was rather serious and stoic. He came from somewhere in Canada (and after the divorce, he moved back there) and had only his father and brother growing up and was raised in a militaristic-type way. Despite his cold demeanor, he actually had a good sense of humor and enjoyed company every once and a while. Unfortunately, all positives seemed to dissipate after the divorce and Matthew seemed to get the worst of it.

About six years later, Thomas got promoted and had to move back to the States. Guess where they so happened to find the ideal home? Right next door to Mary and Alfred, of course, because karma had a tendency to pick on them. They grudgingly accepted this, but only because Mary was a forgiving person when it came to her son's happiness, and Alfred was more than delighted to have his brother back. The only reason Thomas agreed was that he didn't really care either way. And, even though it wasn't said aloud, they all knew he was more impressed with Alfred than Matthew.

The two reconnected, but found that they were both a little different from when they last remembered. Matthew had formed a habit of being soft-spoken, humble and somehow gained the ability to fade into the background. On the other hand, Alfred had seemed to do everything but those things. Granted, they still managed to hang out and interact like brothers should. But their family soon discovered that six years was a long gap that would take even longer to mend.

In an attempt to bridge said gap, the two made a silent agreement to include each other in their lives and no more secrets. They were twins, after all. They had a bond stronger than most. They were determined to make sure it stayed that way.

Yeah, so when Alfred heard Matthew's reason for needing a ride to the school that Friday during Thanksgiving break, it was safe to say that he was surprised.

"... Wait, so does this mean that you got caught up in that thing Monday?" Alfred raised an eyebrow at his brother, pausing his game of Mario Kart and silently leaving _'I'dforgottenyouwerethere,bro' _out of his sentence.

"Y-yeah..." Matthew said while adjusting his glasses, already embarrassed enough. "Can you just drive me there? I really need to be there and I don't want to be late."

Alfred stared at his younger brother with a mixture of doubt and confusion, but eventually put his Wii remote down and pulled his keys from his pocket. "A'ight... You owe me some explainin' after this, though."

"I will, just don't worry about it."

They went out to Thomas' truck (an old Ford that he'd given to Alfred, claiming that he wouldn't be getting a new car until he learned how to not wreck an old one) in complete silence. It wasn't until Alfred started the car that anything was said, and it had to be Alfred, of course, because he couldn't stand quiet for more that necessary.

"So... Who else'll be there?" Alfred popped his bubble gum mid-sentence, "Did Franny get chosen for this, too?"

"No," Matthew distractedly shuffled around in his bag, only half-listening. He eventually found what he needed, put it on the dashboard, and then continued his shuffling, "No... You went after him, remember? Also, don't call him Franny. That's his sister's name."

"Hey, it's not my fault that French people suck at naming their kids."

Matthew rolled his eyes, "Anyway," he sighed, "I think that Lovino and Feliciano will be there... Arthur, too... Oh, and Kiku."

"Whoa, hold up. Why are Kiku and Arthur going to be there?"

"I don't know why _I'm_going to be there, Al."

"Pfft... Well, I'm excited to see how this turns out."

Needless to say, everyone was late. They didn't even try to be early, which, given their personalities, isn't all that surprising. Arthur was the first to arrive, only thirty minutes late. His being late may have had something to do with his slight anger/guilt at the fact that it was probably his fault that they were there. It was more, though, that he was just stubborn and refused to admit to anything, so he didn't really try his hardest to be there.

The Briton knew that no one else would probably arrive for some time, so he took it upon himself to go ahead and get at least a few things done. He grabbed some chalkboard paint that he'd bought earlier that week and began getting rid of his name spray painted in red on the board.

None of this was his fault, Arthur told himself. It was those three idiots with too much time on their hands. Still, no matter how many times he repeated this in his mind, part of him didn't believe that entirely. He kept hearing those words Dr. Vargas had said to him._ "It'donlymakesensethatyou'ddothis,theysaid."_

That was absolutely preposterous. This was just another form of bullying they'd come up with, because he hadn't done anything. Arthur stopped his spraying for a moment and frowned. It wasn't anything personal against them that he was budget cutting. It was personal for him, but nothing against them. He took a moment to step outside himself and ask if it really seemed like he'd done this. He found his answer and immediately stopped his thoughts on the subject.

Kiku was next to arrive, not making any excuses and apologizing profusely. Feliciano, Lovino, and Feliks all had random reasons for being late. Feliciano said something about helping at his Grandfather's Italian food place, although everyone saw that any evidence of being at a restaurant was around his mouth and his hands. Lovino had responded with a quick, angry response in Italian that nobody bothered- or wanted to- translate.

Feliks didn't bother with lying, claiming, "Oh, well, I was, like, out shopping for stuff to help around with." Everyone was shocked at this, seeing as this was the first time anyone had seen the Polish teen actually prepared for this sort of thing. "Yeah. I got, like, a teensy bit distracted for, like, a second. But it was totally worth it!" He pulled out pink, sparking, and surprisingly not-tacky jumpsuits. "Now we have our own uniforms! Oh, wait, that one's mine... like, that one too..." And so on.

About two and a half hours later, Miss Robinson came bursting through the band room's double doors looking worn-out, disoriented and wide-eyed. "I'm. Not. Late." No one tried to disagree.

After an hour more of arguing about what should be done first, Matthew was dragged in through the door by Alfred. "See, Mattie, I told you they were still here!"

"Never go to a gas station with a McDonald's next to it with Alfred. Ever."

After cleaning was complete, they decided to take a break. They were all tired and sick of each other and just wanted to go home.

"See, I think I know why we have such a hard time working with each other." Feliks spoke after a few minutes, going up to the chalkboard and beginning to write. Everyone else stared at him, wondering what on earth he could be doing when he turned around and moved to the side to show them.

On the board was a miniature drawing of each of them, littered with little sparkles around himself and some random little things around the others, like ponies. On the top of it, he wrote in big letters, _'UST'._

"See, we all have, like, way too much drama going on. Kiku and Arthur get along well, and Feli and I totally do, too," In between each pair he announced, he scribbled a line with 'BFF' over it. "But Feli and Lovi, like, don't like Arthur." He drew three little lines connecting them with what looked like lightning where the lines met. "And I just totally don't like any of you, 'cept Feli." He drew a border of ponies between himself and everyone else.

Then, Feliks drew a small picture of Alfred and the 'Bad Touch Trio'. "Kay, then we have this problem. Arthur and Kiku, like, totally have the hots for the same guy," he drew a line coming from Kiku and Arthur towards Alfred that collided just before reaching him. "And nobody knows who Toni likes, but, like, Lovi likes him. Frenchie and Gil both like Mattie, but Arthur used to date Francis but it, like, totally didn't end well." After adding the necessary edits to his masterpiece, he stepped back to admire his masterpiece.

Each person stared at the drawings, then at Feliks. "Oh, and as for Miss Robinson, you probably haven't had a date since middle school. So basically we're totally, like, a walking manifestati-whatever of unresolved sexual tensions."

They all sighed and silently agreed to not let Feliks use the chalkboard while they were there while Miss Robinson mumbled something about needing to buy new chalk. Again.

"We need to find a way to pay for the instruments," Kiku began, fiddling around with the broom in his hands. Everyone was sitting in random order in the black chairs in rows that stretched into a half-circle around the band room. "But I don't see how we can in only two days. A cheap saxophone alone costs about twelve-hundred dollars... A better one around ten-thousand. We would need a miracle."

"We could go kindergarten-style and hold some sort of sale. You know, like a bake sale or whatever?" Feliks suggested, inspecting his nails. "We could sell 'em at my sister's boutique. Maybe even, like, at Dr. V's restaurant thing."

"Yeah! Can I make pasta, too? Vee! Pasta!" Feliciano exclaimed happily in a singsong voice, throwing his hands into the air and leaning the chair onto its hind legs. "Maybe I can make some zucotto or tiramisu! Wouldn't that be yummy?" It was evident that all the laziness shown while they were cleaning completely vanished when it came to food.

Miss Robinson coughed. "I wouldn't mind getting in contact with people to come by. Maybe even my boyfriend wouldn't mind showing up..."

"You don't have a boyfriend, so stop saying that..."

"I think that this would be very successful..." Kiku murmured aloud. You could practically hear the creative gears in his head running. "I'll make some sweet dango..."

While everyone was chatting animatedly about their plans, Arthur sat back and watched the scene in slight annoyance. He involuntarily pouted. While the idea was good and all, there were two problems. First, how would they make enough money from all that? Second, and most importantly, while he hated to admit it, he couldn't cook to save his live. The most he would be able to do would be to calculate money and systematize things. He did that everyday as vice-president, and he hated not doing as much as possible to get his job done. Thus, the Briton would not stand for this.

"I don't like the idea."

Everyone froze and turned their heads to him, and a little voice in his head said, "I immediately regret this decision." Nevertheless, he kept his expression from faltering and continued, "I don't like the idea because it doesn't seem realistic. How much do you think we'd make in a day? I'd estimate enough for a few instruments at best. That's even if we set up at a highly populated area. I just don't—"

"Well, at least we're, like, thinking of something." Feliks stood, frowning in irritation. "What's your idea? You totally haven't been doing much talking over there, Mr. I-hate-every-thing."

Arthur was about to snap back when Lovino stood as well. "Pixie boy's right! It's your fault that we're here in the first place! If you didn't hate those damn art programs so much, we could've gotten Granddad to listen!"

"I hate to say this, but I agree. Mr. Kirkland, if anything, you should be the one coming up with ideas." Miss Robinson lowered her glasses to look directly at him. "Well, if not this, what do you have in mind?"

After a moment of quiet, Lovino huffed. "Well, you're not getting any help from me. Come on, Feli."

Feliciano tentatively nodded, sadly mumbling something about him not being able to make pasta. Feliks left next, stomping his way out of the room. Kiku and Matthew hesitantly followed after, sending an uncertain glance towards the Briton. Miss Robinson said something about going to get them and rushed out, leaving Arthur alone in the dim-lighted Band Room.

Unsure of what to do, he stood up and walked around. He felt a knot of frustration tighten in his stomach and his face heat up. It wasn't as if that had upset him. No, not in the least, he argued with nobody.

In all actuality, he didn't know what he was supposed to feel, either. At the moment, it was a mixture of selfishness, loneliness, anger (at the others or himself, he wasn't sure), and guilt.

Oh, so much guilt. Not the kind of guilt where you feel like arguing to make it better, not the kind of guilt where you feel like everyone is against you and not the guilt when you feel like confessing everything for just a brief moment. No, this was the kind of guilt where you have argued and see no point anymore, the kind where you _believe _everyone is against you, and the kind when you know there isn't anyway to confess.

How lonely a conscious can be.

Arthur, in his silent march about the room, eventually stumbled upon a piano. It was a Baby Grand, and a thin layer of dust had started to form along the ebony surface. He ran a finger along a white key and immediately found the urge to smash it rise within him.

**He never hated the arts. **

**It was his family who seemed to hate them.**

He rested his hand in a certain position on the keys for a chord, felt a wave of nostalgia run though him, and had to stop himself again from smashing the keys in. Green eyes scrutinized the piano for a moment.

**He'd always been talented, and he knew it. So did his brothers. **

**And they didn't like that.**

Dare he? It was just a simple action. All he had to do was push his hand down all so slightly. Would it be worth it?

**His love only existed for music.**

**And they took it away**

"_It'd only make sense that you'd do this, they said."_

Arthur cringed and drew his hand back sharply. No, he couldn't. There's no way it could be that simple. It just can't...

"_**Arthur, dear, what happened to the guitar I'd given you? I miss hearing you play, love."**_

He closed his eyes and debated in his mind something even he wasn't sure of...

"_**I can't anymore. Kirkland's can't be bothered with such trivial activity..."**_

... and decided that they won't define him any longer.

When Arthur played a chord, as if he were trying to prove something, it was like taking his first step again. No one ever remembers what the sensation feels like, but he assumed it was this marvelous. The notes chorus together in a minor chord, and it was as if his spirit felt the vibration of the lowest note and soared with the highest.

However, he knew he could do better.

Excitement bubbled up within Arthur. It was as if he was getting away with every rule he'd ever laid out for himself. He sat down on the piano bench and pressed the pedals with his heel just to remember how it felt. Then, he took both hands and played a more elaborate chord and the whole thing made him laugh out.

He'd missed this so much.

He made a mission for himself: to find the notes that described how this whole day, this whole misunderstanding, this whole rejuvenating feeling in the core of his being made him feel.

It took several tries, but it's really hard to escape practicing piano for years. Arthur eventually came across a pattern that made him sigh. It wasn't exactly a sigh of relief, but a sigh of recognition. As much sense as that made to him, it may not to others. Nevertheless, he didn't care. He found it. And as soon as he did, he couldn't stop. He remembered the melody well and let it pass through his fingertips. Then he even dared to let it pass through his lips.

"_Oh no, I see... A spider web is tangled up with me," _He took a breath and let the notes ring out in the air for a moment. _"And I lost my head... the thought of all the stupid things I'd said."_

As he repeated the pattern of the intro on piano again, Arthur realized that this song fit his situation far too well. Maybe someone, somewhere, had mercy on him and had given him a chance to let it all out? If so, he was going to make the most of it.

"_Oh no, what's this? A spider web and I'm caught in the middle. So I turn to run..." _For a moment, he feels a stinging in his eyes and immediately pushes whatever reason for tears back and instead used it in his voice. _"The thought of all the stupid things I'd done..."_

Arthur felt the stinging again when he reached the chorus. _"Oh, I never meant to cause you trouble. Ah, I never meant to do you wrong..." _He meant it, too, _"Oh, well, if I ever caused you trouble...Oh, no, I never meant to do you harm."_

The intro repeated yet again and he took the small chance to let himself stabilize before singing again. God, he'd forgotten how emotional this was.

"_Oh no, I see... A spider web, and it's me in the middle... So I twist and turn. Here am I in my little bubble."_

When Arthur reached the chorus again, he felt like someone else. _"Singing out-Ah, I never meant to cause you trouble... Oh, I never meant to do you wrong... Ah, well, if I ever caused you trouble... Oh, no, I never meant to do you harm."_

The instrumental gave Arthur a chance to stop and consider things. Was this even a good enough confession to make up for everything? He didn't even get a chance to notice that there wasn't even a 'Sorry' anywhere in the song when he reached the end.

"_They spun a web for me..._

_They spun a web for me..._

_They spun a web for me..."_

Again, the instrumental, then the song was done. It felt like a forever and a half, but at the same time, he felt it was over far too quickly. Arthur sighed, closed his eyes, and stood up when all of a sudden, he heard a clapping from the doorway. His head darted toward the intruder to find Miss Robinson standing there without her glasses and looking almost in tears. "Gosh, Arthur, that..." She swallowed, "That was beautiful."

Before he could respond, Arthur found himself in the presence of a completely different person. Miss Robinson went over to him and put her hands on his shoulders. "All this—It's given me an idea! P-please, if you can just talk to them, they'll come around. Trust me! After that, leave it to me and we'll be done with this whole mess!"

It took a long time, but the two finally managed to round up all the others and get them to show up. The apology Arthur had delivered was filled with contradictions and was kind of cliché, but everyone seemed to understand and accepted this.

"We probably would've been just as bad had we just left you to fend for yourself." Matthew said with a small smile.

Everyone agreed with that and eventually settled down, continuing their search for ideas. Abruptly, Miss Robinson burst in out of breath, but with a smile on her face. "Boys, I think I've found the answer to our problems. Do you play any instruments?"

They all sort of mumbled quietly in response. She frowned and went up to Matthew. "You first. Do you play an instrument? Sing? Something?"

"A-ah," He flinched at her sudden outbursts. Lots of people getting out of character today, huh. "I play piano... And I guess I'm good at singing."

"Wonderful! You, Kiku?"

"Boku? Ah, well... Guitar."

"Feliks, I know you have something up your sleeves?"

"Pshh! Do I ever!" Feliks grinned like a cat. "Like, I totally play drums! It's awesome!"

Feliciano interjected before she could even ask him. "Veeh! I play flute, and violin, and cello, and... Oh! I can sing, too! Lovino," he lifted his brother's hand into the air. "Lovino plays saxophone and guitar, too! Right?" Lovino muttered in Italian, but nodded.

"Then this'll be perfect! I just called the band director," She began, "And she let us use the Jazz Band instruments so long as we don't break them."

"Miss Robinson, what do you plan to have us do?" Kiku tilted his head to the side. "You act as if we're to perform..."

Everyone paused.

"Wait, we're not actually _perform_, are we...?"

"Yup! I figure if we go ahead and have a bake sale, it'll be good, but what if we added this? It'd be a hit!" Miss Robinson seemed excessively enthusiastic about this, but everyone listened. "Plus, you're not going to perform just any song. You'll be performing my favorite!"

They all laughed nervously. This was the sensible Miss Patricia Robinson, who hated nonsense and loved order. It couldn't be that bad. Then again, she hadn't exactly been the same sensible Miss Robinson in the past few hours.

They all braced themselves and hoped for the best.

That Sunday was spent mostly baking, organizing, and making sure they knew the song Miss Robinson requested. It was a tiring day for them all, since a few of them had church earlier that day, and Feliks' sister came by a few times to see what would fit in her salon/boutique/whatever it was. Dr. Vargas also came by to see how they were coming along.

"It seems you all are doing well," The man hummed, inspecting the food they were loading up into boxes. "I'm looking forward to see what you all come up with. I'll be sure to invite some people, too."

"Please do!" Arthur called, lifting a box and putting it in the back of Caroline's (Feliks' sister) van. "As many people as you can would be very good. The more the merrier."

"Well, well, everyone seems a bit cheerful, huh?" Dr. Vargas grinned, turning to Miss Robinson.

She nodded tiredly. "Yes, but trust me, this is only because they have a straight goal in mind. Wait a day or so and they'll be back at each other's throats in no time."

"You also seem relaxed, Patricia. I don't think you were this way at all when you were a student here. How long has it been?" He rubbed his chin that had a bit of visible fuzz, "Three or four years?"

"Yes, well... I can't exactly place it, but there's something about being with these boys that make you feel like your not being put under constant pressure."

Dr. Vargas hummed again, looking over the teens in the room. "I see... Well, in any case, I'll be looking forward to seeing whatever it is you're doing! Half of the boxes go to my shop, right? They'll be up and ready to sell by tonight."

"Thank you, sir."

Soon after he left, Caroline and Alfred decided to make an appearance.

Caroline was hard to distinguish from her brother for a moment. She didn't use the valley girl dialect as much, but she certainly knew how to keep a conversation interesting. She took one look at the room and laughed. "Oh my gosh, you guys have a lot of stuff!" Caroline scanned the amount of boxes. "Man, I had to stop myself from tearing into one and eating all of it for a second there! Totally watching my weight." She laughed.

"It is impressive," Alfred chuckled along. "Are you sure I can't try any? Pretty please?"

"No. If you want some, then you'll have to wait until tomorrow and then you'll have to pay like everyone else. So long as I'm in charge of the money, no one's getting anything for free." Arthur frowned at the American. "Now, if you're not going to help, then move."

"Aw, don't be like that, Artie. C'mon, can't I get a little discount for just being so incredibly awesome and brilliant and all those other positive things?"

Arthur stuck his nose in the air sharply and proceeded to carry the box over to the van. Alfred followed close behind like a lost puppy, continuing to beg for at least one treat. Kiku watched this with slight amusement and slight hesitance.

"So... We both like him, huh...?"

"Alright, so, it's official!" Caroline announced, standing on a chair just in case no one noticed her booming voice over all the other noise known as practically silence. "My car can't carry anything else! There's no more room, and I can't get more gas until tomorrow afternoon."

They looked around. There weren't any boxes left, but they had instruments and equipment for them still left unpacked. Alfred surveyed the remaining items and grinned. "I can take 'em in my car. I think that it'd fit. If not, a trip or two back again won't hurt anything."

"You'd do that?" Feliciano piped up, closing the trunk of the van and skipping to the group gathered around the door. "Veeh! Thank you, Al! Would you be able to take them back here?"

"Yeah, I'm cool with that." Alfred turned to Arthur and pulled out his puppy dog face. "Can I get just _one_thing free now, Artie? Please? I'm helping!"

_Sigh._

That Monday was, for some reason, included in Thanksgiving break for their small town. Everyone was up and about in the downtown area, window-shopping and the like, which was good considering Caroline's boutique was in downtown. It was right next to the theater that had been running longer than Arthur's grandparents had been alive. No one was really sure how long exactly, but they knew it was old. It was good, because a lot of the time, actors that were performing went to her place for make up and hair and the like.

They set up everything outside of the shop, and since the road formed a half-cul-de-sac, it was easy to set up things around the edges while the small stage they had borrowed was in the middle. The road was old-style and made with brick instead of paved concrete. That, combined with the amount of people walking, made it where there were hardly any cars out, which made them all deem it safe to set up shop in the road.

The weatherman said something about a possibility of snow that day, and it was extremely cold. Lovino was blowing hot air into his tenor sax every once in a while to make sure it wouldn't get sharp in that temperature, which left Kiku and Matthew to serving out the merchandise. The remaining three, Arthur, Feliks, and Feliciano were out welcoming people and occasionally going on stage to make sure everything was working out all right.

Several people from their school were there, which made them stop and wonder if this was a coincidence or if Dr. Vargas really meant what he said about inviting people. A few teachers were there, mostly talking to the principal while Miss Robinson was collecting money.

"Oh, turns out my boyfriend couldn't make it due to family issues!" Miss Robinson laughed. No one bothered to mention, again, that they knew that she was single.

While Kiku was adjusting the settings on the amp, he glanced over to Alfred, who was conversing loudly with a few of the visiting students. He was attracting them like flies, which he supposed was for their benefit. There was a certain air about him that was captivating, it made you look twice. At that moment, the American saw him and waved a little before re-joining his conversation. It made his cheeks heat up. _'Oh dear... Time to make another doujin...'_

Around noon, it was almost time for their first song. Miss Robinson was excited tremendously, encouraging everyone to stay, listen, and have a treat or two. They were beginning to gather onstage, and a few people looked up at them curiously. Vaguely, in the back of their heads, they recalled seeing these people somewhere. Perhaps they were students? Well, if they couldn't remember, they weren't all that popular anyway.

When they got to the stage and Kiku began speaking in the mic, Alfred's gaze drifted from them to the gathering people. The amount of people in the crowd had increased. No doubt, it was either because of all the people coming on stage to make fools of themselves, or Kiku's ability to easily do public speaking. This made him grin. This was going to go off without a hitch. While he did enjoy attention, he could live without it for a moment. This was their moment.

After Kiku finished their announcements, Arthur walked up to the main mic with his bass guitar in hand. _'I probably should've told her that I can only play piano. Dammit.' _He tapped it once, twice, then looked back at Feliks and nodded. The Pole responded with a nod back and counted off.

Matthew on keyboard, Feliciano with a maraca and a cowbell, and Arthur on bass had the intro. It was a steady beat for a few measures, and then Feliks joined in, _"Ladies and gentlemen...It's my pleasure to introduce to you... He's a friend of mine," _

Arthur piped in, _"Yes, yes I am,"_

"_And he goes by the name... Arthur!" _He added in the bass drum and high-hat as Arthur sang a note to cue it. The crowd cheered excitedly as they slowly recognized the song. Arthur took in a breath and waited for Feliks to finish. _"All the way from Hetalia high... And he got something special for ya'll tonight! He's gonna sing this song for ya'll...About this girl."_

"_On that sunny day, didn't know I'd meet...Such a beautiful girl walking down the street. Seeing those bright brown eyes, with tears coming down," _He wanted to hide when a few girls started squealing.

"_So he said to himself," _Feliks added.

"_She deserves a crown," _Deciding it wouldn't hurt, he winked down at the audience, _"But where is it now? Mama, listen..."_

Feliciano and Kiku joined in harmony during the chorus, _"Senorita, I feel for you. You deal with things that you don't have to." _This got an even bigger roar of applause from the crowd, _"He doesn't love you, I can tell by his charm. But you could feel this real love, if you just lay in—"_

"_Running fast in my mind, girl don't you slow it down... If we carry on this way, this thing might leave the ground." _

Lovino joined in on sax as everything came to a halt and everyone sang, _"How would you, like to fly? That's how my queen should ride."_

"_But she still deserves the crown, or hasn't it been found?" _Arthur found himself completely in the song, _"Mama, listen..._

"_Senorita, I feel for you... You deal with things that you don't have to... He doesn't love you, I can tell by his charm! But you could feel this real love if you just lay in my..._

"_Ah—Ah—Arms_

_Ah—Ah—Arms_

_Ah—Ah—Arms_

_Ah—Ah—Arms."_

By that time, everyone was chorusing behind the lyrics Arthur sang, _"When I look into your eyes, I see something that money can't buy...And I know if you give us a try," _The others made a crescendo in harmony,_ "I'll work harder for you, girl, and no longer will you ever have to cry..."_

It took forever, but they eventually got to the end, with the male portion of the audience singing, _"It feels like something's heating up, can I leave with you?"_

And the female half responding, _"I don't know what I'm thinkin' 'bout, really leaving with you!"_

"_Gentlemen, goodnight. Ladies...Good morning," _Arthur laughed a little when he saw Miss Robinson nod rigorously in approval.

The rest of the time they were playing songs, nothing went wrong. Well, if you count the Bad Touch Trio (have I mentioned that the title was self-proclaimed?) running on stage and singing one along with them as okay, then you can count that statement as true.

That Tuesday, all seven found themselves back in a delighted Romulus Vargas' office. "I'm impressed. You managed to pay off majority of the instruments." Dr. Vargas grinned, "Which gives me a wonderful idea for your main punishment."

They all crossed their fingers.

"Congratulations, you are officially forming your own singing club." Dr. Vargas let out a laugh at the student's pale faces. "And since you did such a good job, Miss Robinson will be your sponsor."

As much as they all complained, in the back of their minds, they all were thinking the same thing:

'_Well, I'm sure we'll manage...'_

_**TAH-DAH~ -sparkles everywhere-**_

_**Well? How joo like? This chapter was rather Arthur-centric, eh? More characters will show up in the next chapter, along with more drama!**_

_**And since I'm so generous, I'll give you a quick preview:**_

"_That's totally it! We're, like, so through!"_

"_Oh, blame it on the cheerleaders. Naturally."_

"_Actually, I thought it was amazing... My name is Zoey, by the way."_

"_Now, Alfred, we must remember to keep this a secret... No one can know, alright? Promise?"_

_**Oooh! I'm excited to write it all. –squee- Well, I hope you all enjoyed. The parings poll will be up in about an hour, so in the meantime, fill out the suggestion poll! **_

_**Reviews are my crack, yo!**_

_**~Hari Sama**_


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